


Ghosts of the past

by Elenyafinwe



Series: Peredhil [6]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Family Loss, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Lindon (Tolkien), Second Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenyafinwe/pseuds/Elenyafinwe
Summary: When Gil-galad hears that the house on Amon Ereb is still standing, he decides to take a trip there with Elrond and Elros in the belief that this will do them a favour. The twins, however, are awaited by ghosts of the past, a past they do not want to look back on.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur, Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Ereinion Gil-Galad, Elrond Peredhel & Ereinion Gil-galad, Elros Tar-Minyatur & Ereinion Gil-galad
Series: Peredhil [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077245
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Ghosts of the past

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Geister der Vergangenheit](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/729711) by Elenyafinwe. 



> cn violence, loss of relatives, grief

Elrond felt his throat tighten as he entered the room. His hands trembled and his eyes burned, but he did not care. Elros followed him hesitantly, almost afraid, as if he was afraid of the ghosts of these rooms.

Bright daylight shone in from outside and made the dust of the years shine brightly, dancing in the air. A light breeze made the loose shutters rattle against the wall of the house, but beyond that nothing could be heard. Their breath was only booming all the louder in their ears.

Elros stepped to one of the shelves. Inside he found an old wooden ship, tipped over but still undamaged. The dam broke.

Sobbing, he put his hand over his mouth. With the other he pressed the small wooden ship, a miniature version of Vingilot, against his chest. He trembled all over his body. Elros had not been able to let go of this ship since he was a child, but after the sinking of Beleriand he thought he had lost it. And now it just stood there as if it had been waiting for him all along.

Elrond too was now overwhelmed by his feelings. Powerless, he let himself sink onto the bed - his bed - as he struggled to catch his breath and tears streamed down his face. He remembered too well the day he had first seen this room. When Uncle Maglor had promised to make a home for them. He had kept his promise.

They were home again.

After the fall of Beleriand, they had found refuge with Gil-galad. In the chaos of that time, they had had to leave behind everything that had once been dear to them, and had possessed little more than what they had worn. And then, just over a year later, Ceomon had appeared among them, the faithful soul. He had told them that the house on Amon Ereb was still standing, as if by a miracle, and that the damage was limited. He had suggested that the library be salvaged, as Maedhros and Maglor had hoarded some valuable treasures there. Gil-galad then decided to take the two half-elven and their servant on a short journey to see the former mansion of the last two Feanorians with his own eyes.

Still crying, Elros sat down with his brother and cuddled up to his chest. Elrond wrapped his arms around him, giving support and searching, as it were.

"This is all wrong", Elros sobbed. "Why aren't uncle Maglor and uncle Maedhros here? Why did _atto_ only leave without us to steal this cursed stone? He should be here with us now. With uncle Maedhros. Why did they leave us alone? Why?"

Elrond knew no answers. All he could do was hold his brother and silently share his tears.

As they had been sitting there for a while, Elrond noticed a movement in the door. As he looked up, he saw Gil-galad standing there. Hurriedly, he wiped his face, though he could hardly cover up the traces of his tears. But when he tried to get up, the king told him to stop.

"Take all the time you need. I can understand if this upsets you," said Gil-galad. "I will wait for you in the library. Come when you feel ready."

With these words he left.

Elros sobbed a few more times. Then he sniffed and straightened up again. He looked as miserable as Elrond felt.

"A few rooms away are uncle Maglor's rooms," whispered Elros. " _Atto_ …"

"Shall we go?" asked Elrond quietly, although he himself did not know whether he wanted to.

But Elros shook his head. "I can't. Not yet." Then he stood up, straightened his back and took a deep breath. "Come, the king is waiting for us," he said in a much firmer voice now.

Elrond wiped away the last tears and stepped to his brother's side. They would be able to endure this pain as well, together as they did everything else. Then they set off for the library. There they found Gil-galad engrossed in a conversation with Lindwain, a Sinda who had previously worked occasionally for Maglor and had kept an eye on the twins' health. When Ceomon had returned to Amon Ereb in search of Elrond and Elros, he had found him here, as he had apparently also been looking for the twins. He had asked Lindwain to look after the house while he himself continued to search for the half-elves. Lindwain had indeed stayed and had taken care of the damage to the building caused during Beleriand's destruction.

Traces of it could still be seen. Cracks in the walls had not been sealed and there were still several broken pieces of furniture and other furnishings. Windows had been broken and leaves had been blown in. Dampness had caused several spots of mould, and in other places cobwebs were hanging thickly in the corners of the rooms. Nevertheless, the house was in a surprisingly good condition, Lindwain had been tireless.

"You have done exceptional service, Lindwain," said Gil-galad at that moment. "I want to reward you for it in any case. What you have done here no one could have asked of you, and yet you have done it."

Lindwain bowed. "I'm just glad it wasn't for nothing and that everything has turned out for the best, sire."

At that moment he noticed the twins approaching. A smile fell on his lips. "Elrond, Elros! Have you finished your tour?"

They had been so happy to have found their old childhood friend again. Ceomon had told them about him, of course, but when he had actually stood before them again, it had been something else after all.

Lindwain had never officially been an employee of the manor. He had lived out in the forest and offered his sparse knowledge of herbs to those who needed his help. The twins had stumbled upon him more or less by accident one day and somehow one had joined the other and Maglor had entrusted him with the welfare of his little ones. Lindwain had never lived here in the house and had only been called occasionally when the two half-elves had caught a cold - which had happened often enough. It was all the more remarkable how he had nevertheless devoted himself to the upkeep of the house.

"For now, yes," said Elrond. "So many memories hang here for us. It is difficult to grasp everything at once."

Lindwain nodded understandingly. "I can well imagine."

"What are you going to do now?", Elros wanted to know. "After all, your task here is done."

"Will you come with us?", Elrond asked hopefully. To know another familiar face in his vicinity would give him stability.

"I regret that I can't," Lindwain said, however. "My lord is still Prince Oropher, and I have extended my loyalty to him far and wide since I stayed here. But we can meet again later and talk in detail about everything that happened in the meantime, when we last saw each other."

Elrond let his shoulders down. "Oh..." But Lindwain was actually right.

"With your permission, I will leave now, sire. I'm sure you have many important things to discuss with them," Lindwain said to Gil-galad. The latter nodded and dismissed the Sinda, who then left the library.

"Please excuse our outburst of emotion earlier," Elrond said as Lindwain had left.

"Feelings are there to be felt," Gil-galad only said, "After all I know about your past, I would have been very surprised if you had not been affected by all this.

"What is it you wanted to discuss with us, sire?", Elros wanted to know.

"You shall call me by my name," Gil-galad reminded them.

Elrond writhed inwardly. He was uncomfortable to be so intimate with the king and to meet him at eye level as if they were friends. But that was exactly what Gil-galad wanted.

"Is this... an order?", he asked cautiously.

Gil-galad sighed, but smiled. "If you insist, yes. Come, walk with me a little. It's more pleasant to chat when you're moving."

They went to the king and walked together between the rows of shelves.

"Lindwain showed me how he looked after the house and especially the library," Gil-galad began. "It would have been a real shame to let those books just rot away."

"Si- I mean, just ... have you decided what to do with them?" Elrond asked. "Return them to their rightful owners?" Many of the books were spoils from Doriath and Arvernien, which the Feanorians had rescued from the fires they had set themselves.

Gil-galad smiled. "But that has already happened today."

Both Elrond and Elros looked at him questioningly.

"The easiest thing to do would have been just to send someone to come and recover the books and then close the matter," Gil-galad continued.

"Why you wanted us to go here together instead, I have not really understood yet," Elros admitted. "The realm is still under construction and we don't really have time for such excursions."

"Oh, but that is exactly why we are here," said Gil-galad. "I had an idea and wanted to see for myself whether it was as feasible as I thought it would be. It seems to me it is."

"And what is this idea about?" Elrond still did not understand how all this was connected.

"My kingdom is young, and I lack suitable people in every corner," explained Gil-galad. "Above all, I cannot rule my kingdom alone. I already have my mother and Túrhael at my side, and probably Celebrimbor will join us soon, but that is far from enough. I have considered appointing you to _aranduri_. Your position in my kingdom is still unclear, that would finally create clear conditions. I cannot treat Earendil's sons like simple peasants. The problem, if you want to call it that, is that the title of arandur cannot be given without possession of land. How convenient that this house still stands and is no longer a complete ruin".

Slowly it dawned on Elrond what the king was getting at. "This ... this is not possible", he protested weakly.

"Of course it is possible, I am the king," said Gil-galad, as if there was nothing to it. "All the land in Lindon that has not yet been claimed belongs to the Crown, that is, to me, and I can do what I like with it. I give you this patch here and appoint you lords of Amon Ereb. Which makes you the rightful owners of these books here. A fine collection, indeed."

Elrond's head was spinning. "But...why? Why us? Why your _aranduri_ of all people?" That would make them the most influential figures in the realm, able to exert direct influence over the king and his decisions.

He looked for help to his brother, who was suspiciously silent. "Elros, say something!"

Elros had listened with a furrowed brow. "I think this is your path, not mine, brother", he finally said. "I'm destined for something else."

Gil-galad nodded. "I think so too, you are right. Well, just Elrond, then, but that's perfectly all right too. And to answer your question, Elrond: Because you both don't have straw between your ears. You have been more of a help to me this past year than many a person who has been by my side all my life. We have been given the incredibly difficult task of creating something new from ruins. I need everyone at my side who can help me do it."

"But ... but then why not, I don't know, a position among your healers," Elrond stammered his protest. He felt overwhelmed. "I have already learned so much from Palandíriël!"

"And I encourage you to continue learning from her," said Gil-galad. "But as I said before, I cannot simply ignore Earendil's sons. The nobility is already scraping their hooves because they don't know how to deal with you. Let's do them a favour and put up a clear front."

Elrond hated being associated with this man, but Gil-galad was right. Their unclear position had created tension. The Noldorin nobility were a bunch of aristocrats who stuck firmly to their rehearsed rituals. The two Peredhil were an unclear element that had been thrown out of nowhere into the calm lake and was now making wide waves. They, the sons of Earendil, who carried the star of Feanor. Elrond had never before come into contact with Noldorian aristocracy so directly, but his foster-fathers had made sure they learned all they needed to know about it. He had, of course, not escaped the tension that their sudden appearance had created.

"You know that I accept whom you have chosen as your family," Gil-galad continued. "But you know even better than I that not everyone does. The fact that you still wear the Feanorian star so openly has, quite frankly, caused me some difficulties".

Unwillingly, Elrond looked down on himself. On both his robe and Elros', the eight-pointed star of Feanor was proudly displayed on his chest. It had indeed not earned them many friends.

"I therefore suggest that you choose your own banner. This is what you do when you start your own house." The last thing Gil-galad said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

With that he left the two confused half-elves behind and left.

"What just happened here?" Elros asked himself.

Elrond asked himself the same question. _Arandur_. Lord of Amon Ereb. That was too much at once to grasp.

"I don't want to think about that now", he said. "Let's go find Lindwain."

But they didn't get very far. In the atrium, they saw Gil-galad talking with Rodarben, the leader of his _turmacundor_. Rodarben had handed to Gil-galad Aeglos, which he had kept until then, and seemed to be worried about something. Gil-galad seemed to think about what he had said, but when he saw Elrond and Elros, he waved them to himself.

"My grandfather was just telling me that some orcs had been sighted not far from here," he said as they had joined him.

Orcs were still a problem. Well, when were orcs ever not a problem? Most of those who had escaped the War of Wrath had been scattered to the winds, but the borders of London were far from secure and the mountains offered many hiding places. However, as long as these orcs were not united under a single malevolent will, they did not pose too great a problem. Morgoth was no more and Sauron was gone forever.

"I think this is an excellent opportunity to see your fighting abilities for myself," Gil-galad continued. "I am sure Maedhros forged you the swords not only for decoration as I know him. I want to see what you can do with them."

The brothers looked at each other.

" _We have never fought a real battle_ ," Elrond thought nervously.

" _But uncle Maedhros has made sure we can_ ," his brother replied.

"I _n theory._ "

" _Also practically._ "

Elrond was not convinced. The idea of using his sword for what he had received it for did not appeal to him.

"Let me be part of your conversation," Gil-galad asked. He knew that Elrond and Elros were capable of _ósanwe_ and often used it when they didn't want anyone else to hear what they were talking about.

While Elrond was still considering how best to put his thoughts into words, his brother took the floor: "We have never fought a real fight off the training grounds."

Gil-galad beckoned. "There is a first time for everything. Just be glad your first fighting experience was not the downfall of Eglarest."

Elrond felt Rodarben's gaze rest upon him. Once he had been part of Maedhros' shield-guard, but when his daughter Elloth married Fingon, he had asked for permission to go with her to Dor-lómin. So it had come about that he now served his grandson. Elrond did not really know what to think of this elf. One moment he spoke proudly of his former master Maedhros, and the next he watched the twins with suspicion. Did he even think that Maedhros had taught them how to kill other elves with their swords?

" _That might be quite normal for a bodyguard_ ," Elros thought. " _And besides, the king is his grandson and we... are just us._ "

" _I still find him creepy_ ," Elrond replied. " _Does he really think Uncle Maedhros would have taught us something like that? He couldn't even hurt a fly!_ "

Images from his early childhood flashed before his eyes. Memories of a Feanorian sword at his throat.

" _You know that's not quite true_ ," Elros reminded him superfluously.

" _It hurts, however, that everyone thinks they are nothing more than common murderers._ "

Elros compassionately put a hand on his arm. " _Yes._ "

"Come," Gil-galad interrupted their silent conversation. "Surely we do not want the orcs to escape us. It will be a wonderful hunt!"

He went outside, followed by Rodarben.

"We don't even have armour, only our swords," Elros went up.

"I beg your pardon, but it is not true."

Ceomon had appeared out of nowhere, who had been roaming around somewhere else in another part of the manor house.

Elrond looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I looked at the old forge behind the house," Ceomon reported. "Prince Maitimo had last been working on armour for you, young lords. I believe he wanted to give them to you when he returned. Unfortunately, that never happened, but they are still there."

Elrond felt tears come to his eyes again as he thought about what might have been. He swallowed hard. "Show us... show us, please."

Ceomon nodded and then led them to the forge. As children they had rarely been here because Maedhros had not allowed them to. This was a dangerous place for children, he had said. As they still showed no interest in blacksmithing when they grew up, there had been little opportunity for them to enter Maedhros' workshop. It had not seemed appropriate to them. This had been Maedhros' little kingdom, which belonged to him all alone and where he had been able to flee to when his ghosts had tormented him too much. They hesitated as they stood at the threshold of the forge. To go further would mean crossing this border into Maedhros' very personal realm. Ceomon must have noticed their hesitation, but he said nothing.

They followed him into the forge when they were ready.

Ceomon stepped to two armor stands, on which identical armor sets were draped. He must have already dusted them and cared for them, for they looked as good as new. As if they had just been pulled out of the chimney. The metal shone red-golden in the light of the incoming sun. The pieces of armour elegantly interlocked like ribbons, offering both protection and freedom of movement. The star of the Feanorians was worked into the chest with _mithril_ , and red cloaks showing the same star in gold were attached to the shoulder pieces. These armours were worth a fortune.

They were Maedhros' last gift to the twins, his last attempt to protect them.

Elrond could not and would not hold back tears any longer. The mere thought that Maedhros had made these armours for the twins stabbed him in the heart. It was to be Maedhros who stood here and presented them with his gift! Why was he not here? Why were they not allowed to have him at their side?

"I can help the young lords to fasten their armour, if you wish," Ceomon offered. "I know I am not him, but..."

Elrond wiped away the tears. "Please. Help us. We would be happy."

Some time later, they came out of the forge fully armed. The metal was remarkably light; Ceomon suspected that Maedhros had put a considerable amount of _mithril_ in it. Where he had taken the money to afford it, however, he did not know; in the last years of their lives the Feanorians had possessed only a fraction of their former wealth and had been truly dispossessed. Elrond did not know whether, apart from Aeglos and Gil-galad's own armour, he had ever seen anything more valuable than this armour.

Gil-galad waited for them in the courtyard, where he had already assembled the party that had accompanied them here. He had already put on his shimmering silver armour himself, and his banner blew from the tip of his spear. When he saw the brothers, his eyes widened. Then he nodded appreciatively.

"I wonder what Maedhros had been able to do when he still had both hands," he said, patting Elros against the breastplate. " These armours are worthy of a king."

Elrond's cheeks burned. He didn't want to give the impression that he wanted to stand on a level with Gil-galad and follow in the footsteps of his foster-fathers, but he feared that he was doing just that.

Gil-galad looked thoughtful as he examined them. "Despite everything ..." he murmured, so that only they could hear him. "I'm almost sorry I squeezed him like that. It must have cost him a fortune, a fortune he no longer had."

But then he turned away. "Come on, let's ride," he ordered the bystanders. "Let's go hunt Orcs!"

" _I hate horses_ ," Elros thought fervently.

" _I'll make sure you don't get eaten_ ," Elrond replied, but sent a comforting thought to his brother. Unlike him, his brother had never liked riding and had always considered it a necessary evil.

" _Ha ha, very funny indeed, dearest brother_ ," Elros grumbled and sighed in his fate.

The horses were already ready. Gil-galad got in the saddle first, his entourage did the same. Elrond and Elros rode to his side and Ceomon, also cloaked in his armour, stayed close to them. He was their servant, but also their guard. It had been Maglor's last order to him to take care of the twins, and he took this order very carefully.

Gil-galad had already had his scout tell him where the orcs had been sighted, and now led the troop there. Obviously, he did not care for secrecy and let the armour that had earned him his name shine over the land in plain sight.

"We have to find out what is left of the properties of Maedhros and Maglor," he said to the twins at one point. "After all, this is your inheritance. The land that belongs to Amon Ereb should also be able to make a little bit of profit, then you won't have to live on my pocket money. Besides, you as _arandur_ are expected to earn a certain amount of money from your lands anyway, Elrond. Taxes and the like, you know."

Elrond looked over his shoulder to make sure that none of her companions had heard Gil-galad's words. "Do not speak of this as if it is already established, I pray you."

Gil-galad smiled. "But it is already certain. I have even written a letter to that effect; I just have to put my seal under it."

Elros sighed. "You will always get your way anyway. Why should my brother advise you anyway?"

Gil-galad ignored this. "I know you do not like to talk about your parents, but I have something else to give you. Maedhros had not allowed the havens to be plundered, so I had had everything of value recovered, including the inheritance Earendil and Elwing had left you. I have kept them for you until now, but with your own lands and a title, it is now time for me to officially hand them over to you."

Elros frowned. "You had given Narsil to uncle Maglor for safekeeping several years ago, and he had left it to me when the time was right, as you had said. Beyond that, our parents had nothing of value - except the nauglamír and they took that with them."

"Oh, just some jewels and some jewellery," said Gil-galad. "I think you could just sell that and knock a few extra coins out of it. Nothing as important as Narsil."

Why Elwing had insisted on bequeathing this sword to Elros, no one really knew. She had never discussed it in detail with Gil-galad, with whom she had once been friends. Gil-galad knew, however, that Elwing possessed the gift of foresight, as strong as her sons', and therefore suspected that she had seen something she didn't want to share with anyone.

"I was afraid it was going to be another sword," Elrond remarked half-jokingly.

"Oh! But there is a sword among them," Gil-galad revealed. "Aranrúth, Thingol's own sword."

Elrond blinked. " You can' t be serious!"

"Yes, I am. Elwing had mentioned it once, but had not said what she intended to do with it," said Gil-galad. "I'll just give you Aranrúth, let you two talk it over and see what you do with it."

"Then let's draw straws to see who gets it," Elros suggested.

Gil-galad, of course, was immediately up for it. As he rode past a tree with a low-hanging branch, he reached up and broke off a twig. He broke it into a longer and a shorter piece and held it so that the twins couldn't see which piece was which.

"The one who draws the shorter one gets the sword," he determined.

"This is a bad joke," Elrond commented and randomly grabbed one of the two twigs. Elros pulled the other. It was the shorter one.

"What am I supposed to do with _four_ swords?" he moaned.

Elrond laughed. "That is not my problem."

Elros frowned at him. "Laughed at by my own brother. Pah!"

"So now you have your own swords Nahtanar and Raumomacil, the blades of Amrod and Amras, and now Narsil and Aranrúth," Gil-galad enumerated. "A remarkable collection."

At that moment, one of the scouts that Gil-galad had sent ahead approached. "The orcs are not far away," he reported when he reached them. "They are aware of our presence, and are alerted accordingly."

"Good," Gil-galad commented, and an unprecedented harshness crept into his gaze.

Elrond sensed the hatred seething in the king beneath the calm, composed surface. Gil-galad, like so many others, had lost too much to the enemy and was eager to kill any orc who came before him.

Elrond himself was far from eager to face the orcs. Maedhros and Maglor had always been extremely protective of their little Peredhil and had hesitated for a long time before they were even willing to put weapons in their hands. Maglor had never been comfortable with the idea that his children would ever have to fight, but in the end he had realised the need for them to at least defend themselves.

He felt the comforting closeness of Elros' _fea_ , and that calmed him down again. He smiled gratefully at his brother.

As they rode to the top of a small hill, they could make out a group of about twenty orcs in front of them in the grassland, crouching in the valley and searching in vain for cover. They outnumbered the elves two to one, but the elves were mounted and had the advantage of the high position. The orcs had probably not expected to encounter enemies here, otherwise they would not have ventured so far into open terrain. This mistake would now be their death.

They shot some arrows in the direction of the elves, but in their haste they were badly aimed. No one became dangerous to them.

Gil-galad raised Aeglos into the air. The spearhead flashed. "Let us send these creatures back to the hell from which they crawled!"

He gave his horse the spurs and rode ahead, closely followed by his knights. They rode in close formation, the slope giving their horses an extra boost. The orcs were only lightly armoured, a scouting party that was not prepared for open combat. Only a handful of them possessed roughly worked spears. These orcs were now pushed forward by their comrades to meet the approaching riders, but their hands trembled and they held their weapons unsteadily.

Aeglos wielded like a lance, Gil-galad was the first to meet his enemies. His spear speared two orcs at once, his horse's hooves crushed the chest of a third. Elrond followed him closely. He managed to evade the spear that was aimed at him and killed the orc who held the weapon with a backhanded blow. It went surprisingly easily.

His brother was less fortunate. His horse cried out in horror as a spear pierced his chest and went down. Elros was thrown from his saddle.

"Brother!", Elrond cried out in horror.

Gil-galad shouted something to him, but he paid no attention as he panicked blindly and tore his horse around and hurried to the place where he had seen his brother fall. Without further thought, he jumped out of the saddle, but breathed a sigh of relief when he found Elros safe and sound. Elros was already picking himself up again and apart from a few bruises nothing else had happened to him.

"I _hate_ horses," he exclaimed.

"No time for that now," Elrond said as he stood with his brother and lifted Nahtanar.

The charge of the knights had scattered the orcs in all directions and left them in complete panic. About half the creatures were already dead, the rest disoriented and confused. But when they saw the two Peredhil, they recognised them as easy prey and approached them.

The momentum of their attack had carried the riders away, and so it took them a moment to turn their horses around and react to the new situation.

The brothers may never have fought a real fight, but they had an excellent teacher. Maedhros had known that their greatest strength was that they did everything together and had taught them to fight in this way as well.

Elrond and Elros did not need words to communicate. They also knew what each other would do. They moved in unison through the ranks of the orcs. If one blocked an attack, the other killed the orc who had dared to approach them. If one hit the right side, the other covered the left side. Soon the orcs had learned that they were not as easy prey as they thought.

At that moment Gil-galad's knights were ready to attack again and rode the creatures down. The last orc who had stood against the twins was crushed by Ceomon's horse.

Gil-galad rode to the Peredhil, got off his horse and took off his helmet. "I don't know whether to be impressed or to call you a fool," he said, but with a laugh in his voice. "And this was really your first fight, you say? I wouldn't have guessed that after what I saw. But well, you learned from one of the best. The way you moved like a unit, that was really remarkable. _Ósanwe?_ "

Elrond nodded. "Yes, but it is more than that. We simply know what the other one will do next, which may simply be because we have spent our whole lives together. Uncle Maglor once said that his youngest brothers were quite similar to us in that. Maybe that's just something that's normal with twins."

But then he noticed how Elros trembled and was alarmingly pale in the face. "Is everything okay, brother?" he asked worriedly.

"I feel sick," Elros pressed out between clenched teeth.

Elrond put a hand on his back. "Did you injure yourself in your fall? Where does it hurt?"

"No, not that. It's just that..." Elros pointed to their surroundings with one hand. Then he vomited where he stood.

Elrond held the hair out of his face and put one hand on his brother's trembling shoulders as he looked around. He saw what Elros had meant. The battlefield was a sickening sight. The ground was shaken and soaked with the black blood of the creatures. Many of them had borne cruel wounds, severed limbs and slashed bellies. But the most horrific sight was of the orcs who had been trampled by the horses.

Elrond noticed that his bile was coming up.

Gil-galad said nothing, but merely removed the wineskin from his saddle and handed it to Elros. When Elros's stomach was finally empty, he accepted it gratefully to rinse his mouth.

"They are orcs, remember that," Gil-galad finally said. "They deserve nothing but our hatred. But still, it is good that you do not fight too lightly."

"Uncle Maedhros has told us what blind fighting fury can do to you," Elrond said softly. And Maedhros had really left out no detail. As a child, Elrond had long been plagued by nightmares, although he had never really remembered what had happened in Arvernien. The memories were hidden behind a gracious veil of forgetfulness. But when Maedhros decided that they were old enough to learn how to fight, the first thing he told them was what he had really done in Arvernien at that time. Elrond had not been able to sleep well for many nights afterwards, let alone look Maglor and Maedhros in the eye. It was unthinkable that the elves, whom they loved as their family and who had always done nothing but good for them, should be capable of such cruelty.

A shadow fell on Gil-galad's face. Perhaps he suspected what Elrond had just thought of, but he said nothing. Instead, he got back on his horse.

"Come, let's ride back," he said.

Elros's horse was the only loss they had to mourn, otherwise they had all come out of the battle unharmed. Elros sat behind Elrond on his horse, but he had fallen into a gloomy silence and, like his brother, did not share Gil-galad's good mood about the victory.

"I now know why _attat_ had hesitated so long to teach us how to fight," he said quietly to Elrond at one point. "It is a horrible feeling."

Elrond just nodded and felt as miserable as his brother.

The evening had already fallen when they returned to the house. A single light was on in the kitchen; apparently Lindwain had been expecting them and had prepared a meal. Elrond prepared for an above-average number of mushrooms.

One of Gil-galad's knights took care of the horses, the rest of them went inside. Lindwain had indeed prepared a supper for them from the provisions they had brought with them and his own supplies. While the knights ate their meal in the kitchen, Elrond and Elros dined with Gil-galad in the dining room. The brothers still shrouded themselves in silence and poked about their food quite listlessly.Lindwain had indeed added his own touch and had been very generous with mushrooms. Gil-galad, of course, had not missed their mood and kindly refrained from any attempts at cheering them up.

"Well? Any ideas for a banner yet?" he finally said after a long period of silence.

Elrond nodded. Then he turned to Ceomon: "Please bring me ink and some paper. And then get yourself something to eat."

Ceomon was already standing in the background all the time again, waiting for orders, instead of getting some rest after such a long and eventful day. Now he nodded, bowed briefly and left. Shortly afterwards he came back with what he wanted, but then stayed.

"You shall go and eat", Elros reminded him.

"I ate a piece of cheese on the way," protested Ceomon.

The twins gave him a long look.

"Yes, yes, I'm going," he scolded to himself and then left.

Gil-galad smiled as he looked after him. Then he looked at what Elrond was sketching.

"Oh, this is interesting, of course. Very daring," he said, when he finally realised what the sketch represented.

It was the coat of arms of Earendil, but with the Feanorian star in the middle.

Elros had already known what Elrond had in mind, and was taken with the idea.

"I would have thought that you would find it too obvious," Elrond said to Gil-galad.

"Stars are always a good choice," said Gil-galad with a wink. "And nobody would have seriously expected you to simply copy your father's coat of arms. Giving the star two more points is really only a small thing. Isn't it?"

Elrond smiled. "When you put it like that..."

"Well, that settles that too," concluded Gil-galad. "Do you have any plans for this house and the land that goes with it? My first thought was to grow vines, but although the slopes would be suitable, I fear we are too far north for that."

Elrond smiled narrowly. "Had you hoped not to have to import any more from Dorwinion?"

Elros, on the other hand, sighed and did not try to cover up his feelings with a bad joke. "Let me tell you something, Gil-galad. Where you sit, there once sat uncle Maedhros, uncle Maglor to his right and we to his left. Every morning and evening we sat here and ate together and talked about what the day brought us. In the beginning it was not so easy for all of us, the mood was ... tense. My brother and I were confused and didn't know what to make of it and we just wanted to go home, even though uncle Maglor had said it was not possible. But I also remember him burst in one morning, just after we came here, and proudly put the plate of ruined pancakes in front of us. At the time we were extremely irritated by it, but in retrospect it was quite exhilarating.

Ereinion, this house is full of ghosts. At every corner we are reminded of what once was and is now lost forever. Maedhros is dead and Maglor has disappeared. They were the only two family we ever knew. We don't want to be here. If you insist on making us lords of this rock, don't let us stop you. But it will always be just a title on a piece of paper."

Gil-galad nodded slightly. "You are right. Forgive me for not thinking about what this really means to you. Someone will be found to manage these lands for you."

Elrond smiled gratefully at his brother. He had not been sure how best to present this matter to Gil-galad, but Elros, as always, had found the right words. Amon Ereb was a spirit from a time that was no more. A time that held many fond memories, but also much pain. He did not want to look back.

**Author's Note:**

> atto - father, dad; the dual form is attat; Q.  
> Túrhael - wise Lord, S.; an elf from Gondolin, who followed Tuor into exile and joined Gil-galad in Balar  
> Lindwain - Young Song; S.; an elf that will play a role from the 11th chapter of my longfic childhood memories  
> arandur - king's servant, minister; the official title of the Stewards of Gondor, however, when I was looking for an equivalent for a Roman senator, I found it very fitting, which is why it is now the title for Gil-galad's advisors; Qu.  
> Palandíriël - looking far, consisting of palan (looking far) the PPA of tir- (looking), S.; Gil-galad's personal physician, with whom Elrond is apprenticed  
> Rodarben - Noble Knight, S.  
> turmacundo - Shield Guard, Pl. turmacundor, Qu.  
> ósanwe - mental exchange, telepathy; Qu.  
> Nahtanar - fire bite; Qu.  
> Raumomacil - storm blade; Qu.


End file.
